


Jealousy is the Prettiest Color on You

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Sam, Jealous Sam Winchester, M/M, No Sex, implied bottom!dean, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7204880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is getting hit on at the bar. Sam sees and decides to step up.<br/>Written for Wincest Love Week day 5</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealousy is the Prettiest Color on You

Sam was drunk – _incredibly_ drunk _._ He was stumbling, red cheeked, and giggly, but Dean loved every second of it. They’d just finished up a rough case – a witch who was barely over the age of eighteen, who thought it’d be appropriate to murder small children for her ‘god’. Of course they’d gotten rid of her, but both brothers knew they’d need more than a few beers to wipe the pain of this case out of their minds.

So here they were, at some dive bar in the middle of nowhere and Sam was on stage singing a slaughtered version of All Out of Love while Dean nursed his whiskey, laughing softly.

A drunken voice slurred from next to him, “Man, what a loser.”

“Hey, watch it. I know him,” Dean snapped, looking over at the man sitting at the bar next to him. He sized the guy up instinctively: about five-eleven, probably about Dean’s weight – though it was mostly bulk around the midsection – and too damn drunk to hold his own in a fight. Good to know.

“Oh yeah? He your boyfriend?” The man slurred.   
Dean hesitated. Sure, he and Sam fucked pretty regularly – and monogamously for the most part - and sure, they were technically soulmates, but they’d never exactly called each other boyfriends.

“He’s uh, my friend,” Dean stuttered, feeling stupid. But he wasn’t about to call Sam his boyfriend and embarrass him if something did go down with this drunk cowboy. Not to mention, they were in the Deep South. Things may be more liberal in most places, but Dean wasn’t about to test his luck.

“Oh, so you’re single?” The man set his hand high on Dean’s thigh – well, he hadn’t needed to worry about _that._

“Whoa, man,” Dean slid off his stool, away from the grabby stranger, “I don’t swing that way.”

The man snorted, “You’re too pretty to not swing that way.” He went for Dean again, and it took Dean a moment to realize that he was going to try to kiss him.

Dean stepped away quickly, raising his hands. “Whoa, whoa dude. No.”

The man laughed, “Don’t play hard to get, cutie,” He said, heading toward Dean again.

Dean nearly missed what happened next by simply blinking. In a second, Sam was on the guy, yanking him away and turning his body so he was between the drunk stranger and Dean.

“Do we have a problem here?” Sam asked, all traces of his drunkenness gone now; a hunter’s instincts were exquisite, even when intoxicated.

“No, man. I was just talkin’ with your friend here,” The man mumbled, raising his hands in surrender. Sam was a terrifying person and he knew it.

“Looks to me like you were trying to push yourself on him when he clearly told you no.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the creep.

“What? No! Not at all man, just chill. He was flirting too!”

Sam snorted, “He doesn’t flirt with other men.”

“And how would you know that?” The man asked, forgetting that he was outweighed and outnumbered for a moment.

“Because he’s my fucking boyfriend, you ignorant hillbilly, and we’re from a place where it’s not okay to sleep with six people _and_ your pet sheep.”

Dean began to laugh, but swallowed it at the warning glare Sam gave him. The stranger stood to his full – unimpressive – height.

“What did you just say to me, you prick?” He slurred, and Dean saw his hands clenching – he was ready to take a swing.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Sam relaxed his body and held his hands up at his shoulders. “I didn’t even realize you probably don’t know big words. Lemme spell it out for you, so it might not hurt your drug addled brain. You. Dumb. Fuck. This. Man. Mine. Touch him. I kill.”

The stranger snarled, drawing his fist back and swinging forward in an arc that a five-year-old could have dodged.

Sam stayed where he was, however, reaching up and catching the man’s fist in one big hand. He twisted the man’s arm back until they could hear the audible pop of his elbow. He swung his leg around and took the man’s knees out. The man crumpled when Sam released his arm, moaning in pain over his clearly sprained elbow.

Sam threw a few tens on the counter before grabbing Dean’s upper arm in a bruising grip and dragging him out of the bar.

They’d barely made it into the car before Sam was on top of Dean, pinning him against the door, kissing him hard. When they broke for air, Dean grinned sheepishly.

“I wasn’t flirting, Sammy, you know that right?”

“Course I do, De. He had it coming anyway.”

“You know jealousy is a bad color on you, bro,” Dean commented, and Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh is it? You’d rather me let you go fuck every Tom, Dick, and Sally that whistles at your slutty ass?”

The click of Dean’s throat was as clear as a gunshot before he opened his mouth, “I—You know I’d never cheat.”

“I know. But people want you anyway, Dean. You’re sexy, you look like a slut, and you’re an easy target. You’d rather have me jealous than ignorant, wouldn’t you?”

Sam reached up and grabbed Dean’s short hair, twisting his head back while his other hand gripped lightly at Dean’s crotch.

Dean gave a broken moan, gasping for air already. “Yes, Sam… Jealous works better,” He agreed. Sam’s grin in return was nearly predatory.

“Take us back to the hotel, De. I think you need to be put into your place.” Sam released Dean and moved back to the passenger seat.

It took Dean three tries to get the key into the ignition, and not because he was drunk.

 

He was wrong – he thought as he drove them back to the hotel – jealousy might actually be the prettiest color on Sam.

 


End file.
